Twincest
by pinkpower
Summary: Then again they were twins. Fiona/Declan oneshot. No smut, maybe another time.


**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.**

Declan Conye watched his sister, Fiona, intensively as she strut up the hallway, becoming the center of every guy's attention though he knew for a fact Fiona wasn't even trying—she never did. Fiona was the good, responsible twin whom despised male scumbags, yet she attracted them like flies to a honey jar. With her aquamarine irises, chocolate waves of hair, and delicate features it would be a hardship to any guy with brains to feel the almost gravitational impulse towards the beautiful Fiona. . .

. . . He was no different; but things had been changing within him. Ever since Jane—a pale imitation of the real thing—Declan's sexual thoughts of his sister had been fading increasingly. Instead, he had begun to fantasize about what it would be like to merely caress Fiona's porcelain cheeks while they were shaded scarlet, or just to see her glowing vibrantly in his arms. In fact, any sign that he wasn't the only feeling this _absurd_ emotion would do just fine.

Fiona stopped when she reached her twin brother's locker, as Declan crossed his arms over his chest.

"What's up?" Declan greeted, giving his twin sister his signature smirk.

"I saw you and Jane talking outside. Are you okay?" Fiona inquired, regarding her brother with concern.

Declan nodded, momentarily puzzled at Fiona's query. Was she expecting him to be wounded over such an ordinary girl as Jane? That would be greatly uncharacteristic of him. "I'm fine. Why?"

"You-You seemed different with her, that's all." Fiona looked down at the floor, proving to her male counterpart that she was nervous about something.

_Hmm, but why_?

"Hey," Declan whispered gently, feeling that brotherly instinct arouse inside his spirits to comfort his sister. He reached out a hand, placing her chin between his thumb and index finger, and tilted her head so that there identical set of eyes could meet. "Jane was just another game to amuse myself with for a time. It's over, and life goes on."

Perhaps Fiona thought he had transformed into one of those lovey-dovey saps because of Jane, but that wouldn't make any sense at all. Fiona usually knew Declan better than to do something like that. They were, after all, brother and sister. Declan had never fallen in love. Ever. At least not with normal, _predictable_ girls.

"Don't waste your worries on me, sis," he winked and withdrew his hand.

She cracked a smile from the corner of her lips, and shrugged. "If you say so."

_God, she's beautiful_.

. . .

. . .

Declan wondered what it might be like to experience the sensation of having one of his sister's long, creamy legs encircled around his waist, pressing their clothed sexes together in a teasing technique. . . To feel the smooth flesh of her thigh resting in the palm of his hand, though Declan felt the need to reverse these thoughts.

It would go no further than that, Declan mused. If ever the two decided to share bodies, he would rather die than participate in _just_ sharing that—_fucking_, the grotesque, uncivilized way of putting it. Declan knew Fiona deserved much better than that, not just because he was bias, but also because Fiona was secretly waiting for the right guy to give herself to. If by some chance, she happened to chose Declan, in spite of being family and all, he would very well share his soul with her. He would bare all, showing her his every vice—in case she wasn't already made aware. Through skin and touch, Declan would reveal his secret devotion and loyalty to Fiona.

_Making love._

"Declan?" Fiona yawned, turning on the living room light to find Declan lying on the couch. "It's two in the morning. What are you doing still awake?"

"Thinking," he replied truthfully, sitting up.

Fiona wore a lavender silk nightgown; it hugging her modest bosom, but flattering her virginal skin. Other than that, she appeared to be a mess. Her normally brushed hair seemed like a twister blew through there, and all her make-up was completely washed from her face. But to Declan, Fiona was the equivalent of the goddess of love, Aphrodite. Still, as her brother, he wouldn't dare miss the opportunity to tease her.

"Get in a rumble with the pillow, sis, or is there something you're not telling me?"

She gave him a squinty glare. "Shut up."

"So, what are _you_ doing up? Declan asked, getting up from his comfortable spot on the sofa.

"I couldn't sleep," Fiona answered.

Declan nodded, finding her presence soothing—setting him at ease as thought he had been anxious before she entered the room. "You're new imported nightgown becomes, Fiona. You look breathtaking. I'm sure the guys at school would love seeing you in it."

"Declan, I'm too exhausted to be picturing boners," Fiona scolded him halfheartedly.

Yes, he made fun of her, for Declan already knew what Fiona wanted from him, but she simply had too much pride to ask. So, he rolled his eyes, grasped her wrists, and led her to his bed upstairs. Of course he wasn't planning on fulfilling his fantasies; he only let Fiona sleep in his bed when she couldn't get to sleep in her own room. It was something he would allow her to do when they were children; long before he even discovered the different effects a girl's anatomy could cause him, let alone Fiona's. Things changed. A number of girls had entered and exited his room, but it was always Fiona who returned. It was almost ironic, since she had never done anything beyond using his shoulder as a pillow.

"Thanks, Declan. I know it's pretty annoying to have me in here," Fiona stated, apology evident in her tone.

"It's not a problem for me—honest," Declan silently declared, crawling into his king-sized bed next to her. "What's family for?"

In truth, he would walk the entire planet for his sister, if only to ensure her security and happiness.

"Sweet dreams, Fiona."

"You too."

. . .

. . .

He wasn't sure why there was a sudden surge of impulse running through his veins like bolts of electricity, why he was ready to confess his darkest secret to Fiona. All she had done was tease him for being incapable of falling in love with his previous prospects; therefore making him incapable of loving at all. But Declan wanted to prove Fiona wrong. And he now sat in the Media Immersion lad, quietly debating with himself on whether or not he should just come out with it. Every time Fiona so much as glanced at him, Declan could feel the yearn his chest—the flip in his stomach. At long last, Declan figured out what this could possible mean.

He was in love with Fiona.

But this—all of it—was _wrong_. Despicable. She was his sister for crying out loud!

After what seemed like a millennia, the release bell finally run out, and Declan was off in a quest for Fiona. He brushed passed the large crowds of students, spotting Fiona chatting and giggling with that Riley guy.

"Fiona!" Declan called, and her head turned to look at him. "Come here!"

Fiona heaved a resentful sigh, excusing herself from the conversation with Degrassi's star quarterback.

"What?" Fiona questioned, criss-crossing her arms and rolling her eyes.

"We need to talk right this second. It can't wait," he explained in one breath. Declan tugged on the sleeve of her sweater, leading Fiona into the nearest closet.

"Declan," Fiona murmured as fear welled behind her eyes, "wh-what's going on? You're scaring me, and why are we in a janitor's closet?" She searched his cobalt orb for any sign of hysteria. "Tell me."

However, the more Declan thought this through, the worse the inevitable appeared to be. They were siblings, and the ramifications of Declan's irrationalness could be dire. Unlike all the other girls that he moved on from so easily, Fiona was different. Living with her required the two of them to interact and . . . he loved her.

"Declan!" Fiona shouted in aggravation.

Damn it, the teenager mentally kicked himself as his heart acted on its own accord.

His hands placed themselves comfortably on Fiona's sharp curves, transfixed by her eyes. They reflected the bruised clouds during a thunder storm; and Declan couldn't resist the magnetic pull as he lips overlapped hers. Yes, he had crossed every line and violated every boundary that a brother should never even think to do, but it was too late now. No going back. And thus, Declan received the shock of his life: his sister moved her lips in perfect synchronization with him.

_Bliss._

Then again they are twins.


End file.
